


Come Over, Boy, I'm So Ready

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: Tao leaves little to the imagination. Is so fucking transparent.





	Come Over, Boy, I'm So Ready

**Author's Note:**

> 2014 fic

Jongdae reminds himself, as he trips over the ugly leopard-print suitcases blocking the doorway, that he really has a lot of reasons to be grateful he's Kris' roommate.

And that yeah, he's glad that he noticed that ugly scrawly flyer taped to the laundromat bulletin board seven months ago—Kris Wu, Single, Chinese, College Male seeks Single, (not necessarily Chinese), College, Male—with the ugly little dragon scribble and the big smiley face self portrait, a note about how the price was up to negotiation.

Because honestly, as far as roommates are concerned, Kris is pretty fucking great.

He dresses like shit, and he's embarrassing as _fuck_. But he is neat and quiet and really _sweet_ and _indulgent_. And he has a really great entertainment center and an impressive DVD collection, and he shares his really expensive, picky-eater food with Jongdae sometimes. And he's _tall_ and _intimidating_ , and _nobody_ dares fuck with him. Which when you're small and maybe just a little too mouthy, can really come in handy. And he's kinda a pushover and kinda hot, and Jongdae maybe sometimes almost nurses a baby crush on him.

And Jongdae is _glad_. Kris is _great_.

He woke you up that one time you were almost late for you final, Jongdae thinks, as he collapses face first onto their spotty green carpet.

 

And it's as he's scrambling to his feet, huffing, kicking at those gaudy suitcases— _so_ fucking ugly—that he catches sight of _him_. Sitting much too comfortably to be an _intruder_ , but he certainly doesn't belong.

Jongdae blinks up at him as the man lets out this little unhappy sound. A high-pitched, whiny tsk as he unfurls from his place on Jongdae's futon. All shaggy black hair, sharp dark eyes, long powerful limbs, skin-tight clothes, lip curled in an almost comically petulant pout.

Kris nursed you back to health and insisted on cuddling you as you sweated out your fever, Jongdae reminds himself as he makes the connection. The man's brow furrows unhappily.

"You are..." Jongdae tries, and the man sighs loudly.

"Tao," he offers after a beat, and Jongdae notes the sharp cut of his jaw as the main tilts his head downwards to meet his eyes. He motions lazily towards the luggage that Jongdae is still flailing at. "Those are mine."

And Jongdae reminds himself that Kris never said anything about Jongdae throwing up on his shoes after Homecoming.

 

And sure Kris didn't think to tell him that his person was staying over. Kinda blinked as he stumbled over his words to explain it away quickly in the after. He tells him that Tao is one of his closest friends and _really_ clean and quiet and that he won't be a bother. But okay, Jongdae thinks, Kris is a good roommate, and the rent is ridiculously cheap. And Tao, Tao is really fucking hot.

Tao nods solemnly at Kris side. Sucking slow and almost obscene on a Fudgesicle he's rifled out of Kris' freezer, he drawls that Jongdae will hardly notice him.

But Tao's peeled off the cardigan he was wearing earlier, revealing tan, muscled arms, a broad, solid chest. And Jongdae really, really doubts that will be the case.

But Kris has this sheepish smile as he rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck, head hanging so low that he's looking up at Jongdae through his lashes.

And Jongdae recalls how one time, after Joonmyun, when it got really, _really_ bad, Kris had tried to bake him a cake. He'd made that exact same face as he'd whispered about how he just didn't want Jongdae to be sad anymore, okay. He just missed the Jongdae that wasn't sad all the time.

So Jongdae nods and accepts a Fudgesicle in turn, and Kris' smile is fucking breathtaking.

 

But Tao, Tao is hard to miss. Hard to coexist with.

He exists so _actively_ , so _loudly_ , so _attractively_.

 

It's just 2 hours later that Tao's complaining about the couch, calling loud and pitchy as he drapes himself dramatically over the edge—it's too hard, ge, it'll hurt my back, and I have martial arts, you know I have to be in optimum condition. And Jongdae is vaguely offended because it's _his_ futon, but then Kris is stumbling out of his room to offer his bed, nightshirt askew, hair mussed up, voice soft and apologetic.

And Jongdae watches, cheek pressed against the doorjamb, amused as Kris folds his longer limbs into the tiny green space. Tao smiles in response and pads to Kris' room.

 

And Tao sings in the shower. Badly. Loudly. Early in the morning.

And he eats Jongdae's usual share of Kris' food—the fucking hot pockets that Jongdae has been looking forward to _all day_ —and then has the _audacity_ to complain about their their flavor.

And he _touches_.

 

Three days in and Tao falls heavily at his side, whining about the TV choices until Jongdae relents and hands over the remote.

He picks a horror film about a haunted daycare. And he gets scared halfway through, but tries to play it tough. Biting down hard on his plush pink lip, he muffles a scream. Jongdae reaches out to squeeze his hand tightly, and Tao exhales loudly, melting into the embrace.

It's kinda ridiculous how such a hard, big, sexy, sexy body can fold so easily, so pathetically, so needily, curling into Jongdae's considerably shorter side. But there are warm, strong hands wrapping around his waist and a racing pulse pounding against Jongdae's cheek.

 

And he wiggles into Jongdae's space, takes allowances, touches and speaks and demands like he's allowed to.

He presses his chin into Jongdae's shoulder, wraps a loose arm around his waist, breathes about how bored he is right against the nape of Jongdae's neck.

 

He _gives_ , too.

 

Jongdae watches with a sort of sick fascination as Zitao _pouts_ , whines about being hungry, ge, come _on_. Kris scrambles for his wallet, flushing and apologizing profusely. He trips over his too-long legs in his rush towards the door, and from his perch on Jongdae's lumpy futon, Tao fucking _preens_ , fucking _smirks_.

Jongdae catches Tao's gaze, intercepting a cocked eyebrow, and suddenly he's being invited, too. I'm _so_ inconsiderate for not inviting you earlier, Jongdae. What are you hungry for? Here let hyung take care of you, too.

Kris reaches out with his left hand to thread his fingers with Chen's as Tao tugs on his right, and Jongdae—Jongdae doesn't really know what to make of the sharp thrill at Tao's small, secret smile.

And it's heady and confusing. _Tao_ is heady and confusing. And _frustrating_. And beautiful. And Jongdae is kinda fucked.

 

One week in, Tao starts practicing his morning yoga in the living room. In a tight black tank top and even tighter purple yoga pants. The material stretches thin across the contours of his body.

And his body is fucking _banging_. Firm and broad and muscled in all the right places. Jongdae wants to drag his fingers, his lips, his tongue down the entirety of Tao's skin, map the planes of Tao's perfect entirety. The breadth of his chest, the thickness of his thighs, the curve of his spine, the swell of ass.

Tao smiles at him as he stretches, raising his arm above his head. There's a brief flash of the firm, rippling muscle underneath, the hair dusting his abs, and Jongdae swallows hard to avoid choking on his milk.

 

Tao leaves little to the imagination. Is so fucking transparent.

But it's better that way because there aren't really any gaps for Jongdae to fill in as he presses his cheek to the cool white tile of his shower wall, panting as he jerks himself off the the memory of that perfect body. Biting back a whimper as he pictures those tan, muscled arms holding him up against the wall, thick thighs smacking against his ass, sharp, narrowed eyes burning him alive.

And it's better that way because Tao, Tao looks at Jongdae like he's _important_ , and he triggers something soft and paternal, something intense, something almost fierce in its affection. And Tao is _so_ easy to care for, _so_ easy to want. And yeah, Jongdae is fucked.

 

Kris smiles at him ruefully, from the end of the couch as Tao drapes his legs across his lap, leaning heavily against Jongdae's chest.

It's been 3 weeks, he notes dimly. And Tao's hand feels so soft, so warm and solid in Jongdae's own.

But he has a sleepy smile that lights up the whole room, Jongdae thinks. And yeah, he's _so_ fucked.

"Is Kris hyung—?" Jongdae whispers as Tao burrows into his side, and Kris leaves to make popcorn.

"Yifan ge," Tao corrects smoothly, pressing a smile to his shoulder as he plays with Jongdae's fingers.

"Is Kris hyung—" he continues anyway. "Are you guys—?" He pauses deliberately, raises an eyebrow.

Tao laughs airily. It crinkles his eyes, wrinkles his nose, shows off his perfect white teeth. And fuck he's _cute_ , too. Fuck, he's fucking _adorable_. "No, no, no. Too tall. Too clumsy. Too—" Tao creases his eyebrows and narrows his eyes in a scowl.

Jongdae laughs, and Tao's eyes fucking sparkle as he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and peeks up at him through his thick black fringe.

Jongdae is _so_ fucked.

He's so fucking fucked.

 

"You look tense. Come exercise with me," Tao sing songs, three mornings later, as he fucking bends his body right in half, spine arching. The swell of his ass, the peek of tan skin, it's fucking _torture_ as he glides his hands down his thighs towards his toes. Who the fuck stretches like that? Who the _fuck_? "It's good for stress relief. Come _on_."

But Jongdae stops fighting it. Embraces it. Turns into the fucking skid.

Tao makes this little surprised noise in the back of his throat as Jongdae braves a hand to his thigh, fingers catching on the dark terry cloth of his sweats. He tenses briefly, but then arches, and Jongdae falls forward clumsily. Tao grinds back, ass round and plush against Jondae's crotch. He lets out this breathy huff as Jongdae presses forward, skates his hand down his body.

"This is—this is also good for stress relief," he breathes. And he's still bent in half as he begins to rock back against him. Jongdae bites down on his lower lip at the pressure against his hardening cock, and he drapes himself further forward.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans, and Tao moans his name. So Jongdae keeps going, fingers heavy and clumsy. He pets along his legs, smoothing his hands down to grip his thighs. He squeezes the firm, supple flesh.

Tao arches further, bites down on his clothed arm, dampening it with saliva, and Jongdae tugs him even closer.

"I want to fuck you," he murmurs, words hot and wet against Tao's spine.

Tao writhes back with a breathy exhale of Jongdae's name. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, and I want _you_ to fuck _me_ , too."

Tao grinds back harder at that, and Jongdae's cock drags hot and heavy against his ass as he moans. His hands tighten on Tao's hips, and he pulls him back even harder. It's so _hot_ as he palms over the distinct strain of Tao's hardening cock, nosing along the dark blue terrycloth of his sweatshirt. His fingers dip briefly inside, skate over hot, throbbing flesh, and Tao exhales something in Mandarin. Something low and reverent.

"Come to my room."

Tao rises easily, bends forward to kiss him. Quick and deep and sloppy, one hand sliding up Jongdae's shirt, fingernails dragging along his skin. Jongdae stands on his tiptoes and wraps an arm around Tao's shoulders to gain more leverage, kiss him back even harder.

"Don't want to—right here—for Yifan ge to see—" Tao manages against the edge of Jongdae's mouth. His lips are plump and slick and pink as they drag along his skin.

Jongdae curses as he tugs him down by the nape of the neck, fingers tightening at the dirty proposal.

"Come to my room," he repeats, instead.

 

And it's a fantasy actualized when Tao presses him face-first into the mattress. Jongdae bites down on his striped comforter, whimpering into the soft cotton as Tao falls heavily on top of him, pressing hot and insistent against him. His body is so hot and heavy and firm, perfect as it rolls into him. Jongdae grinds forward into the mattress, back into the distinct heady pressure of Tao's cock. He moans his name.

"Wanna fuck?" Tao proposes filthily, words ghosting along his ears, and Jongdae chokes, swallows thickly as he nods.

" _Please_ ," he whines.

But it doesn't get quite that far.

Tao flips him easily, smirks as he looms over him. He peels off theirs clothes with a quick, heart-stuttering enthusiasm. He eases Jongdae's legs open, and Jongdae is too turned on to compare their bodies as Tao braces himself on his forearms above Jongdae's naked body, cock dragging along the softness of Jongdae's stomach. Jongdae's fingers thread into his hair as he bucks upwards, and he's dazed as he takes in the sweat beading along Tao's smooth, supple skin, the pleasure saturating those sharp, beautiful features.

"You're so hot," Jongdae pants.

And Tao bites back a smile—a shy, soft one—cheeks crinkling and flushing further as he grinds down even harder.

"So fucking hot," Jongdae praises, tugging at the damp strands of hair within his reach. He pulls him into another kiss. Faster and sloppier and harder than the last.

Tao slows it down, deepens it, and Jongdae whimpers into his mouth when a calloused finger drags slow and deliberate along his erection.

"Let me," he groans, pulling away. Tao's eyelids are heavy, his eyes dazed, and his shoulders roll forward as he shifts to nod down at him. _Fuck_. "Let me—I can—"

Jongdae licks his palm before fisting both of them, hand slightly shaky but determined.

Broad, sleek muscles strain over him, and Tao becomes breathier, trembles, moaning down at him. He turns to suck on his neck, nose along his collarbone.

Jongdae rocks upward into his own fist and against Tao's cock, as one hand gropes upwards to anchor himself along Tao's back. Tao curls towards the scratch with a fluid arch, a breathy moan.

Jongdae licks at the tan, veined arms bracketing his head. Bites down as Tao's rolls become more fluid, more forceful, devastatingly insistent. And the heavy gaze of his hooded eyes and the minute, teasing swivels of his hips and firm broadness of the body straining over him. He moans desperately as he undulates upwards, whimpering Tao's name.

And Tao is hard and pulsing and slick, dragging insistent against Jongdae's own aching erection. And _fuck_ , he's not gonna last. He's not gonna last.

Jongdae comes when Tao bites down on his collarbone, whining his name against the sweaty skin.

Jongdae's brain short circuits to something like white noise as his limbs jerk weakly with the force of his orgasm. "It's so good," he babbles. "So good. So good. So good— _fuck_."

He can feel Tao smile against his skin before he shifts his hips to rut against his navel.

And even in post-orgasmic bliss, Jongdae is grateful. He tugs Tao up by his sweaty black strands, pulling him into a sloppy kiss as his hand skitters down to caress deliberately. Tao whimpers into his mouth and bites down on Jongdae's bottom lip, breathing hard as he fucks into Jongdae's loose fist.

"Come on," Jongdae urges, increasing the pace of his strokes. "Come on, you probably look so pretty when you come. Let me see."

And he _does_. Mouth opening, eyes closing, brows furrowing, sharpness softening into something almost delicate and fragile in its beauty. Jongdae pets along his sweaty hair as Tao exhales shakily, groaning.

Jongdae laughs as Tao falls back onto his sheets. Their knees knock together, and Tao slots a thigh between his legs, kissing nauseatingly soft and affectionate against the nape of Jongdae's neck.

And yeah, Jongdae is definitely grateful that he's Kris' roommate.


End file.
